Dawn of the Mafia
by Rahxe1182
Summary: How exactly did Giotto become the Don of the most powerful Mafia Famigilia of all Italy? What events played before a young boys eyes and courses of action taken to come to that ultimate decision?


**Chapter 1**

His head felt like it was going to explode at any given moment. He used his small hands to cover his ears, as if blocking out the smallest of sounds would fix the problem. It never did though, because always with these intense headaches came the gut twisting pain of worry; a worry that something bad was about to occur. And that worry had always came true since Giotto could remember. It was as though his subconscious, his intuition, was screaming at his conscious self of the danger that awaited him in the future.

It scared the young boy sometimes, just how accurate his feelings always were; a churn of his stomach to take different roads when walking through town in order to avoid certain dangers only to be found out about later on in the day. Or perhaps he will get a painful headache to alert him of things to happen and give him the chance to improve the situation. All Giotto knew was that his subconscious warnings were not something he should ignore, even if his mother and father thought otherwise.

That was the reasons why Giotto never told his parents when these strange premonitions came to him; they both thought he was delusional or mentally ill. If he told them now that he dreamt the two of them dying, they'd label him as sadistic, completely mad or him _wanting_ the two of them dead; maybe even all of those and more. But he couldn't just let that happen, they were his parents after all, and if he could prevent the two of them from dying, then he would do so.

Slowly, the blonde boy with hair spiked in all directions crawled out from under the blue satin sheets of his four-poster bed. He crossed the room and began to dress himself for the day; a white tunic and simple beige jacket along with dark coloured trousers. With that he exited his room and walked the long decorated hallway towards the diner. His mother and father should be there waiting for their breakfast, if not already eating it. The two of them had to leave town today for something in regards to his father's work, something Giotto found curious since his mother never usually went anywhere and the fact that he was simply not allowed to go along. If he could, he would convince the two of them to stay home, make it look as though he were ill or something, anything to prevent their deaths.

When Giotto had entered the dining room, both his mother and father were there as he expected, already eating their meals in a rush. The blonde began to assume they were already behind schedule, so he figured he should make his request right away.

"Mother, father," He started, catching their attention easily. "Must you go today?" His blonde eyes were looking to the floor, while his foot shuffled lightly in a nervous way.

"Giotto, you must understand. This day is very important; I cannot afford to miss this." His father answered, returning his attention to his food after using the serviette covering the front of his black suit to wipe at his brown beard. An emotion of frustration came of Giotto suddenly, and he felt like shouting at his father in an attempt to make him listen, but he knew it was no good.

"Then perhaps mother could stay? I don't feel well, and I want mother to be here." He lied. Giotto didn't like to lie, and usually he was very bad at it, but if it was to save the life of at least _one_ of his parents, he would do anything.

"No, that's enough Giotto. If you're ill, get one of the maids to attend to you. Your mother and my presences are both needed elsewhere so we will both be leaving, end of discussion. Now sit down and eat your breakfast so we can bid farewell." Giotto's father instructed, and with a pout the blonde boy climbed up to the table and ate quietly. His father was a strict man, but he couldn't complain. He looked up to the man who was his father; strong, encouraging, and intelligent. Without a doubt Giotto's father was quite the brilliant man, many often said that his genius was passed down to Giotto as well.

"Dear, if we wait any longer we'll be late." Giotto's mother spoke up. While Giotto took after his father's intellect, he had his mother's looks; blonde hair, hers was currently pinned up with ringlets framing her face, and blue eyes as bright as the sky. She gracefully rose from her chair, her rose-pink coloured dress free of any mess, as she pulled on a pair of white gloves that went above her elbows. She also adjusted the matching pink hat on her head and smiled at her son.

"Right," Giotto's father muttered as he once again dabbed at his beard. "Come; see your parents out Giotto." He instructed just while getting out of his chair and moving to exit the dining room ahead of his wife. Giotto complied by pushing himself out of his chair as well and quickly followed after them.

"Be safe, alright." Giotto said once they reached the door. Outside, a carriage being pulled by two Oftfriesen horses sat waiting for them. Both his parents gave him a look full of concern and scepticism.

"Giotto, you've been acting very strange this morning." His mother commented, bending down to his level. "Did you have one of those dreams again?" She asked, placing her hands on his shoulders. Giotto was hesitant at first, but nodded after deciding it would be best to tell the truth. As he did so, he could hear his father's sigh from above.

"We don't have time for this right now. We can talk about it once we've returned home." With that the brunette man threw open the wooden door and stepped out. Giotto's mother quickly kissed both of Giotto's cheeks before following after her husband.

"Be good for your grandfather Giotto, he will be here to pick you up by noon and we'll be back in a couple of days. Ciao mio figlio." She said, blowing one last kiss to him as she closed the door behind her. Giotto could all but stare after her wearing a solemn expression. He knew the two of them would in fact not be home in a couple days, but never at all. They were going to die. How he did not know, and frankly he didn't want to, he just knew.

Deep down inside himself, even though his instincts had never once been wrong, Giotto hoped that their deaths wouldn't be today or tomorrow, or whichever day it was that they were destined to lose their lives, but some other time _much_ further in the future. Giotto however knew better than believe in wishful thinking, so instead he returned to his bedroom and began to pack his things in hopes of forgetting things he didn't wish to know. Just as the blonde boy began to pile clothes into a suitcase, a maid knocked on his door before entering his room.

"Young Master Giotto, would you be needing any assistance?" She asked in a tender sweet voice. Giotto smiled up at her and shook his head.

"No, I think I can manage Giselle, thank-you. But do you think you could find a picture of my parents that I could take with me?" Giotto's question seemed to surprise the maid for a moment before she smiled.

"Of course, but you know they won't be gone for long right?" She asked.

"I know, but I'll still miss them."He told her shyly. "I just want to keep them as close as possible, so it feels like they're kind of there." The maids smile then grew bigger as she kneeled to Giotto's height.

"You're a good boy Giotto; I only wish my children would say the same things about me as you do yours." She lightly patted the blonde tuff that was his hair before getting back to her feet. "I'll go find you a picture while you pack the rest of your things." As she left, Giotto could only stare off in wonder. He had no idea that Giselle was a mother to her own children along with being his maid. No he shouldn't say that, there were many times where Giotto thought the woman was feeling overwhelmed with stress, and now he finally found the answer to the question of why.

When she finally came back, Giotto had already packs most of the things he needed. He took the small frame from Giselle's hands and tucked it between some of his clothing. As the blonde boy continued to pack more things from around his room, Giselle watched in slight amusement.

"You're packing an awful lot for just a couple of days Giotto." She giggled lightly.

"I don't want to have to come back." Giotto answered simple, something Giselle was not expecting. "Giselle, can you keep a secret?" He asked, surprising the maid once more. She nodded with a smile while holding onto uncertainty. "You see, last night I had a dream and in it mother and father died." He told bluntly, seeing no other way to explain it.

"Oh Giotto, you're worrying over something like that?" She asked, reaching to pull the boy into an embrace. "Look here, there's nothing to worry about. It was only a dream, your mother and father will be home in a couple of days perfectly fine." She said in an attempt to comfort Giotto, who was shaking his head.

"No, it wasn't _just _a dream!" He said raising his voice, before lowering it again. "Sorry, but it wasn't. I've known about it for a long time now. When I first heard mother and father were going to leave on a short trip, I had a bad feeling. Then I started having dreams of them dying." Giotto explained, desperately trying to get the woman to believe his story. Giselle however didn't quite know how to respond to this information. To her it felt like she had just overheard plans for a cult.

"Listen Giotto, you mustn't let silly things like that worry you. You're just imagining everything, alright? Now let's get you and your things downstairs, your grandfather should be here any minute now." She told the disappointed blonde as she gave him a light push towards the door. When Giotto was out of sight, Giselle physically shuddered. She would have to warn Giotto's grandfather about this once he arrived.

Giselle then took the handle of Giotto's suitcase and carried it all the way downstairs where Giotto was dressing himself for the outdoors. Not that he had much to put on, it was summer after all, and the sun was shining brightly in the cloudless sky. But Giselle's mind was still on the words Giotto had spoken to her until a knock at the door pulled her away from her wondering thoughts when Giotto beat her to opening the door.

"Grandpa!" He called cheerfully as the greying man picked Giotto up off the floor and into his arms, a bright and warm smile on his face.

"Welcome back Master Vongola." Giselle said, addressing the elder man by his surname. "I'll take Young Master Giotto's bag to the coach." She said as she quickly rushed out the door to do the spoken task. Giotto's grandfather nodded with a smile on his face before returning his attention to his grandson.

"Well then, are you ready to spend some time with this old man Giotto?" He asked the blonde boy who let out a giggle with a broad smile.

"Of course grandpa!" Giotto answered just as he was being put back on the ground. His grandfather ran a hand through his hair before turning to lead them both out the door. Giselle was just returning from the coach and stopped in her tacks just before Giotto and his grandfather.

"Giotto, why don't you go get yourself comfortable, I'll be right there." The boy nodded and went off to seat himself in the carriage. His grandfather then turned his attention to Giselle's troubled expression. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes, it's concerning the Young Master. You see, he's been acting rather strange since he woke up this morning." She explained, catching the old man's attention. When he didn't interrupt, Giselle proceeded to retell what Giotto had said to her. "I'm just worried about him sir, he's still young, five years old, and he's having such terrible dreams." She explained. The older man however, seemed to have a more thoughtful look than worry.

"Giselle, I can understand your worry, but here's what I believe," He started with a wide grin spread across his face. "I believe that there are some people in this world who are more closely connected to their intuitive thoughts than others, and that Giotto could likely be one of those lucky people." He explained before bidding the stunned woman farewell and retreating towards the coach.

* * *

><p>TADA! This is quite the long chapter; I'm rather impressed with myself. =) But, I've created another story! xD Believe it or not, I came up with this story while sweeping the floors at work like two or three months ago… My mind does interesting things with only four hours sleep. xD<p>

Now, going by the Family Tree Reborn made in the anime/manga, Primo's time would have been somewhere around 120-150 years ago, but their dress seems to be influenced by around the 1870s, so I'll begin this story in the late Victorian Era (the 1860s). That said I've done a little estimating, so my **timeline** is going to be roughly **1868-1893**. =)

Btw, if anyone is interested in knowing; Giotto Vongola _technically_ means Immortal Clam. I found that out and nearly died. xD I also just had the realization that Tsuna is _technically_ 2 years older than me (I'm 18)… Anyways please R&R! (And for those who haven't been on FF long enough to know, it means Read and Review, not Rest and Relax! xD)

**Darkened Fire Dragon**


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